


Playing the Paladin

by blue_and_copper



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Dungeons & Dragons, Gen, Superheroes, dnd, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_and_copper/pseuds/blue_and_copper
Summary: Written for @braincoins' Shallura superheroes AU.Shiro knows a secret: his boss, Allura Fala, is the superhero Starlight, protector of the city. He has a secret of his own: by night, he plays the hero as well, as the masked Paladin.Playing Dungeons and Dragons is fun, but Shiro's refusal to play anything other than paladins is about to get him in trouble. What will his party do if they find out about his newest hobby?





	1. Editor in Earshot

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Adventures of Starlight & Paladin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879890) by [Braincoins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins). 



> Starlight and Paladin courtesy of @braincoins. Chapter 1 takes place before either Starlight or Paladin reveal their identities and before Allura transfers from her position as editor at the World.
> 
> I was looking through braincoins' tag and saw that in Paladin's original bio, she’d edited out that he named himself Paladin ‘because he always rolls paladins, dammit!’ and I had the thought that Shiro could have an identity scare where… well, here it is :)

Shiro walked out of the elevator, blearily rubbing his eyes. After the surgery he’d slept like the dead, the anesthetic enough to ensure a dreamless sleep. But last night he’d lain awake, skin itching and burning at the stump. Apparently it was supposed to settle after a few days, something about his flesh adjusting to the microfibers’ grip strength.  
  
The afternoon’s activities hadn’t endeared him to his bed, either, a familiar figure of which reminded him on approaching his desk.  
  
“Shiro! Up and at 'em at last. Sure you’ve got it in you after carrying us all yesterday, slayer?”  
  
“Hey, Bob.” Shiro acknowledged with a nod and grin, twisting to drop his bag and sheaf of papers onto his keyboard. “It’s just my sword arm that’s tired - pen’s still got life in it.” Bob laughed.

“I’m glad you felt up to hosting yesterday, even if you’ve only got one good dice-rolling hand at the moment.” Shiro winced at Bob’s tactlessness, even if it was a reality he was mostly used to by now. He’d invited the game group to get together at his apartment yesterday while finishing up his recovery.

Bob continued, “You’ve been gone for almost three months now, we’ve missed our tank. What, did you decide to try to find a new party? Get yourself a girlfriend, cooler hobbies, leave us in the Underdark-” he gasped “To die?!”  
  
Nervously avoiding Bob’s questioning of his free time, Shiro replied, “Yeah, well, James is no use there, he’s a glass cannon. What’s his AC, 16?” Shiro pulled out his tablet, swiping away yesterday’s searches and laying it carefully on top of his bag.  
  
“Seriously, you saved us from that Beholder. I don’t know what we would’ve done if not for your smite there, paladin - and the Misty Step _definitely_ came in clutch. I needed to get out of there fast.”  
  
“Oh come on, you had Mass Heal queued up and ready to go, you would’ve been fine!” Shiro laughed, sitting down awkwardly. Bob fell dramatically against the desk, crying: “No, no - my hero! My paladin! My knight in shining armor!”  
  
“Dude, shut up.” Shiro muttered. A good third of the office space was watching the theatrics on display. He thought he heard footsteps in Ms. Fala’s office behind him.  
  
“What’s the appeal of paladins, anyway? I mean, I know _you’re_ all goody-goody and the moral paragon of our little debauchery club - well, I’m only guilty of geekiness, but that’s bad enough - but that doesn’t mean you have to play one. And you play paladins _every time._ I get not wanting to play the ranger, and paladin’s just as good, but there are other choices! You know playing Ferian is still on the table if you want to try a barbarian. Lemme tell you, rage is almost as good as smite, and just because you get Lay on Hands as a paladin doesn’t mean having barbarian hit points is anything to sneeze at. Look, next time we play at my place you’re not allowed to play a paladin. I have to hear about one flying all over the city already, I’m not gonna have you being a paladin in my house.”  
  
Most of the office had by this point turned away, Bob’s bewildering smattering of terminology finally surpassing his volume. But Shiro was sweating bullets. Ms. Fala’s office door had opened and Allura was standing there in her pressed navy suit, smirking and leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed.  
  
“Bob,” Shiro muttered lowly, cutting off some aspersion to his character. “Let me get to work, okay?”  
  
Bob looked around, eyebrows raised, and caught sight of Allura watching them, still with a small smile on her lips. He whistled low under his breath, then leaned in to Shiro.  
  
“I’ll let you face the dragon on your own, yeah?”  
  
Chuckling to himself, he walked back to the other side of the office, hands in his pickets. Shiro shook his head and began to take out his papers, preparing for copy editing. His face felt bright red. He chanced a glance over to Allura.  
  
Head cocked to the side, lips pursed, she looked stern as ever. But then her eyes flashed and she quirked a mischievous eyebrow before turning to go back into her office.  
  
Shiro let out a breath. If Starlight… Ms. Fala… _Allura_ suspected he had more than a passing familiarity with the city’s new hero…  
  
He was screwed.


	2. Investigation Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's Dnd group tries to find out why he's been missing game night the last few months.
> 
> Alternate title: An Exercise In Loving The MFE Pilots Which To Be Honest I Wasn't Really Aware Of Doing Before But Holy Shit Do I Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 takes place shortly after Starlight and Paladin reveal their identities to each other.

“And the siege engine,” Kinkade intoned, face looking like it was cut from stone, “Rumbles forward, cutting off the merchant’s helpless screams with a sickening crunch. A squad of archers rises over the walls forty meters to your left, and you can see flames flicker at their arrow-tips. Your horses scream at the giant’s laughter, and buck wildly under you. Roll,” and here he leaned forward, candlelight throwing grim shadows across his countenance, “For initiative.”

The entire party groaned and reached for their dice, Rizavi shaking her head as she picked out a green d20.

“This is it,” she bemoaned. “The end of the Lion-Eaters!” James scratched his nose with a conspicuously-raised middle finger in Kinkade’s direction, earning a blown mock kiss in response.

“Ooh, solid 19!” Bob proclaimed, stretching back luxuriously in his seat. “Here we come, a-holes.”

Kinkade flipped over a paper behind his DM screen, grinning. “Wait till you see the bonus these guys have to initiative,” he told Bob. “Don’t go celebrating yet.”

Veronica frowned and pushed up her glasses, looking over her character sheet. “Did you decide if I can use inspiration for initiative rolls? I’d really like to not go last here.” Kinkade cocked his head and thought for a second.

“Go ahead, but if you roll worse you’re stuck with it.” Veronica nodded in response.

Ina padded downstairs in sweatpants and a tanktop, then paused on seeing the battlemat. Leaning over to rest her elbows on Rizavi’s chair, the tousle-headed blonde girl inquired “Which one are you?”

Rizavi pointed. “I’m the elf in the little blue number over there.”

“Oh.” Ina chewed her lip, looking over the miniatures scattered on the table. Stretching out an arm over her roommate’s head, she instructed, “Go for the wizard with ranged, then cast Sleep as soon as they close ranks. Cantrips should be enough for their cavalry, if you just-”

“Ina!” Kinkade said warningly. “You remember what we talked about?”

Ina shrugged, taking her weight off Rizavi’s chair and continuing on to the fridge. “It’s not like it wasn’t the obvious tactic.” James and Veronica chuckled, and Kinkade rolled his eyes.

“You already crush me whenever I’m stupid enough to break out the space marines. Let me have DnD night without making my strategies look like a kid’s?” Kinkade pleaded.

Ina cracked open the soda she’d retrieved and took a sip. “Suit yourself.” She walked back up the stairs, returning Rizavi’s fist bump on her way. “Let me know when you’re getting dinner.”

“Will do.” James said. The party looked back at Kinkade, who was currently writing out the initiative order on his whiteboard. He raised an eyebrow back at them.

“Bob?”

“I cast Fireball!”

 

* * *

 

 

The group chattered animatedly as they pulled on hats and coats, Rizavi dashing up the stairs to grab Ina. Kinkade had thrown every trick in his playbook at them, but they’d managed to stall long enough for their rebel allies to come charging out of the forest, battling away the giant’s orcish minions and forcing him to retreat further into his stronghold.

It had been a heroic holdout, with Veronica’s Battlemaster maneuvers buying the Lion-Eaters just enough space for Bob and James to incinerate their enemies. Now the only main obstacle to clearing out the rest of the occupied city would be the roc-like carrion vultures feasting on the dead, and Kinkade had declared it time for a break.

“I need a rest, we’d better find a place to fortify before we keep moving.”

“Can I buy the dragon guy’s armor off of him? I’m pretty sure my strength is high enough to wear plate mail now.”

“Ooh! I want to behead all the orcs and take their heads with us to intimidate the giant!”

Their conversation carried them the few blocks it took to their usual haunt, Olivan’s pub.

“Hey, Keran,” James said, unwinding the scarf from around his neck to hang it on the hook by the door. “How you been?”

“Ah, Mr. Griffin,” Olivan returned, wiping down glasses from behind the bar. The seats at the bar were full, but there were several tables free, and the group took one, pulling out chairs for each other. Olivan came around the bar, hand outstretched to James. “I’m doing alright, I’m alright. You?”

James shook Olivan’s hand, clasping it in both of his. “Pretty great if I can get some of your cooking inside me.” He grinned, and Olivan chuckled, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“The usual?” James nodded, and Olivan turned to the rest of the group. “What’re you all feeling like tonight?”

The group put in their orders - sandwiches and steaks and chili and beers, with Veronica and Rizavi ordering some flaming alcoholic concoction to share. Olivan stood there with hands in his pockets until they’d all finished, then turned to the kitchen and shouted a long string of words in some language distantly related to Russian to the cooks in the kitchen.

“What happened there?” Kinkade asked, pointing to where the splintered stand of a missing barstool stuck up between its whole neighbors. Olivan made a disgusted sound in his throat.

“Some piece of garbage ran in here a week or two ago to try to hide from that hero, and she threw him into it. The, ah, the pink one. She apologized, but…” he shrugged eloquently. “Sorry’s no good for fixing chairs.”

Veronica furrowed her brow. “Starlight?”

Olivan nodded. “Yeah, the pink one.”

“Why would Starlight be taking on criminals here?” Rizavi asked. “I hear the calls all day, Faraday Plaza doesn’t have anything more than purse-snatchings. She usually hangs out in worse parts of town.”

Ina started to speak around a mouthful of peanuts, then swallowed with difficulty. “Good place to hide. Lots of crowds. Could have run here from somewhere else.” Kinkade nodded in agreement.

“Well, at least the collateral damage is limited to barstools.” Bob rubbed his hands together, grinning as a server came over with a tray of drinks. “Can’t say the same for those castle walls, though, right Lion-Eaters?”

“Doooon’t start on that!” Veronica groaned, pointed a warning finger at him. “It’s still ridiculous you could even take those down, much less when I was standing under them.” She glared at Kinkade, who raised his glass in mock salute.

An hour later, they were full of food and laughter, and enough drinks that it seemed unlikely they’d be going back to Ina and Rizavi’s in time to finish the rest of the session.

James was leaning on the pool table, squinting as Veronica lined up another shot. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to make it a best four out of seven?”

“Not a chance.” Tongue sticking out of her mouth, she thrust her arm forward, watching the cue ball carom off the wall of the table and _just_ brush the last striped ball, rolling it gently into the far pocket. James groaned in despair.

Veronica stepped around to the far side, blowing a kiss to the eight-ball. “I’m coming for you soon, gorgeous.”

Rizavi spoke up from the table next to them. “How does a lawyer get so good at pool anyway?”

“Well, according to the district attorney I’m already a shark!” Veronica laughed. “Plus my dad learned to play it when he came here from Cuba. Helped him make friends.”

Having finished up the dinner rush, Olivan came back to join the group, eyeing the tower of glasses that Bob, Kinkade and Ina were building. He asked, “No Shiro again tonight? I thought he might just be late.”

“Nope,” Kinkade said. “Where’s he tonight, Bob?” Bob scrunched up his face in thought.

“Investigating a nightclub?... No, that was last week. Uh, finishing up some copy that ran over, I think.” He tapped the table.

Olivan shook his head and chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron. “Somebody’s being lied to, and I don’t know if it’s you or me.” The group frowned at him.

James was first to speak up. “What do you mean by that, Keran?” The big bartender shrugged his muscled shoulders.

“He has no reasons, just excuses. I’m saying, it’s been months, no? He should make time for you.” In the resulting quiet, Olivan collected their glasses and returned to the kitchen.

Veronica worried at the cuff of her sweater. “His excuses are pretty flimsy. You think he’s really making up reasons not to come?”

“No.” Kinkade said firmly. “Something else is going on.”

Rizavi stood, the unsteadiness caused by her beers doing nothing to dampen her sudden enthusiasm. “Let’s find out what!”

 

* * *

 

 

A bus ride and short walk later and the six of them were piled up together on the landing outside Shiro’s apartment together, and on their third ring of his buzzer.

“Shiro!” Veronica banged on the door. “Open up, we want to smother you in friendship!”

James sighed, “He’s probably out. What was our plan again? Harass him for not showing up to game night? We never did figure out the penalty for desertion from the Lion-Eaters.”

Kinkade shrugged. “I just wanted to ask him what was up and then tell him to roll for deception.”

Rizavi bounced up and down, shivering. “I just want to get inside where it’s warm!” Her teeth chattered together.

“Well, he’s moved the spare key, so no dice there. I think we’re out of luck.” Bob stood up out of his crouch, pushing the doormat back into place.

“Nope.” The group turned to Ina, who was digging into her various pockets. “Here’s this-” she handed Kinkade a Swiss army knife, “This-” a wire hook, “And one of these.” She dumped a black rectangle into his hands. “You remember how to use that?”

“What… are you doing?” Veronica asked, like she was afraid of the answer. Kinkade rolled his eyes.

“She wants me to climb up to his window and get inside to unlock it for you guys.” He held up the pocketknife and wire hook. “These are to unlatch the window, and this-” he held up the small device- “Is to disable his alarm, if he has one.”

Kinkade looked at Ina again. “You’re not really supposed to have these when you’re not on the clock.”

“It’s my company.”

“Yeah, Ina, but when you don’t have a name tag it looks _really suspicious_ to have breaking and entering tools in your pockets, we talked about this. Remember?” Kinkade shook his head.

He and Ina ran a security company, Multi-Factor Endurance Systems, by day. At night, apparently, they broke into their friends’ apartments.

Kinkade looked at the new expressions of excitement on his friends’ faces and sighed. “All right,” he said. “Give me two minutes.” Kinkade walked around to the side of the building and began scaling the fire escape.

After a moment of fiddling with the latch, he rolled in through the window, dusting off his palms. All was quiet in the apartment, save for the hum of Shiro’s refrigerator.

Kinkade looked around, stepping silently. No Shiro in the bedroom. No Shiro in the kitchen. Bathroom door open.

No Shiro.

He headed for the stairs that led to Shiro’s front door, and then a burst of sound from behind him nearly gave him a heart attack.

“-spent all my years believin’ in you, but I just can’t get no relief, Lord, someb-!” Shiro’s voice, singing, loud, out of nowhere behind him, vanished as quickly as it came, cut off mid-word.

Heart suddenly pounding, Kinkade whirled, pressing himself to the wall. Silence. Then, in the kitchen:

“-til I ache in my bones, at the end, I take home my hard-earned pay all-!” And then it cut off again. Creeping forward, Kinkade stared around the corner into the empty room.

 

* * *

 

 

In Allura’s apartment, music filled the space, Queen blaring from the speakers in the living room. Freddie Mercury cried out “Ooh, each morning I die a little, can barely stand on my feet!”

Well-lit and filled with laughter, Allura and Shiro danced in the kitchen, him taking her by the hips to pull her in for a kiss, then separating to step dramatically past her again.

Allura laughed, face alight with happiness, and said to Shiro, “Go see if you have eggs, we need them!” Shiro spun in a circle, still singing at the top of his lungs, grinned at her and vanished.

They’d stayed in another night after getting pizza, but Allura had insisted on making food instead of ordering Chinese like Shiro had wanted. They’d managed to compromise on pad thai, having all the necessary ingredients split between their respective kitchens. But then Queen had come on (Coran had instilled in her a great love for British music, and Shiro had nixed the Beatles) and he’d taken her by hand in a wonderful, musical distraction.

“Somebody,” she sang to herself, “Ooh somebody,” she jumped feeling Shiro’s newly-reappeared hands slide around her to put a carton of eggs on the counter, and smiled wide.

“Can anybody find meeeee,” they sang together, “somebody to love?” His lips met Allura’s cheek, then her lips as she turned to kiss him.

“And vegetable oil!” Allura pulled back to remind him, and his eyes rolled as his arms vanished from around her. She turned back to her cutting board, still singing, heart happy.

 

* * *

 

 

Outside Shiro’s apartment, the rest of the group was getting restless. Veronica poked at the strand of Christmas lights wrapped around the stairs’ handrail, Ina straightened the numbers next to the mailbox, and Rizavi rubbed her hands together and blew on them for warmth.

“What is taking so long?” she demanded. “I want to get inside, I’ve thought of the perfect thing to draw on his toilet paper.”

James stomped his feet. “Hey Ina, why not just pick the lock if you already had all your tools with you?”

Ina frowned at him. “That would be rude.”

Bob rubbed his thumb across the lock. “Actually… am I wrong, or is there a key broken off in here?” The others crowded around to look.

“You’re right,” said Veronica. She poked at the rough stub of metal. “That’s tough luck.”

“More to the point,” James said slowly, “How does he get in?”

 

* * *

 

 

Kinkade was now staring wide-eyed into the kitchen, watching as Shiro continued to flash in and out, opening cabinets and grabbing various spices and ingredients. Bits and pieces of Queen lyrics, enthusiastically sung, filled the space before disappearing into silence.

“Eeeeeverybody wants to put me down, they say-!”

“-just keep losing my beat, I’m okay, I’m alright, I ain’t gonna face no-!”

Fumbling quietly at his pocket, Kinkade pulled out his phone, tapping the record button and pointing the camera toward Shiro. He held his breath, not making a sound.

After a few minutes of coming in and out, Shiro failed to reappear. Taking his chance, Kinkade tiptoed quietly down the stairs, unlocking the door from the outside and frantically shushing his friends’ exclamations as he heard strains of another melody from behind him.

He reached a hand through to slip the security chain back on. Then Kinkade carefully closed the door, turned to the group, and said firmly, “We’re going back to Ina and Nadia’s. _Now._ ”

The whole bus ride back, they’d pestered and begged for him to tell them what had happened, to say _why_ he wouldn’t say. In response to that one, Kinkade raised an eyebrow, looked at them, and said “Because you’re going to lose your minds once I show you.”

When they got back to the apartment and seated themselves around the table, he showed them.

They lost their minds.

“Shiro can _vanish?_ ” shrieked Rizavi. “He can _teleport?_ ”

James leaned back in his chair, mouth open, amazed. “Are we friends with an alien?”

Ina tapped at the table. “Don’t be ridiculous. The chances of us ever meeting an alien are infinitesimal.” She turned to Kinkade. “There wasn’t a set amount of time between occurrences, so it was likely intentional. Did he ever bring anything back with him?”

Kinkade shook his head. “Not that I saw.”

“Guys, what are you talking about?” Rizavi waved her hands in a _this-is-obvious_ gesture. “He has superpowers!”

Bob’s jaw dropped. “Paladin.”

All eyes went to the forgotten battlemat as Bob picked up Shiro’s miniature. Clad in silver armor, with a black cape and shining longsword.

A paladin.

“Of course!” exclaimed Veronica. “That’s where he got the name!”

James was laughing now. “What an idiot!” He put his face in his hands for a moment. “God, don’t you just love him, though? He’s such a dork, of _course_ he’d take his superhero name from Dnd.”

“Do you think he’s dating Starlight?” Veronica wondered.

Rizavi snorted. “Have you seen her? Who wouldn’t? He’d have to be an idiot not to.”

“Should we tell him?” Kinkade said quickly. “That we know, I mean.”

All eyes turned to Bob. He was the oldest of them, and worked with Shiro. They waited for him to speak.

“Well,” Bob said hesitantly. “Obviously we can’t tell anyone else. But Shiro’s…” He took a breath. “He didn’t mean for us to find out, so I think we shouldn’t let on. Let him keep his secret. And if we can help him, we should.”

They all agreed.

“There’s just one thing I don’t get,” Rizavi said slowly. They all looked at her.

“If Shiro’s only sixth level, how’d he learn Teleport?”

Everyone groaned as she burst out laughing. Ina smiled, rolling her eyes, and ruffled Rizavi’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is wondering, James plays a high-elf sorcerer, Rizavi plays a wood-elf wizard, Veronica a grizzled human fighter and Bob a Fire Genasi barbarian. Shiro, of course, plays a Paladin.
> 
> Ina really doesn’t get roleplaying at all. She plays Warhammer 40k with Kinkade and James, and usually trounces them thoroughly.


End file.
